powdery snow-drenched
coldest in seventy years
eyes frostbitten from hot tears
frozen mustaches
stalactites dripping with chill
million ruble lunch to thaw
Tom says that the Russian Ruble
Is as firm as Apfelstrudel
Thank goodness for that
As Xi Jinping's hat
Is straining like a wet noodle!
Actually, I like Russia
But want her to join Asia:
Doesn’t really belong to Europe;
Like she is there tired with a rope:
So much Asian bravado:
Others under my shadow!
Shall I forget her Brezhnev
To Cowboy Reagan, Quite Brave
Or her Yuri Andropov
Whom you couldn’t say was ‘Dove’
Then, they were dying much fast
Chernenko could not quite last
Also, like Russian Ruble
But from her sensing trouble
When efforts Russians double
To Dollar change with Ruble …
Actually, some friends’ gossip
But persons whose tongues don’t slip.
More Horn Haiku You Will Love
Did compile while reading "American
Gospel," by Jon Meacham.
Became fear monger;
Getting stronger and stronger;
As each day goes by.
What we really need
A National Day of Prayer;
For use not abuse.
God things will support;
Research and development;
He often mentioned.
Shadow of meadow,
Is difficult to see in;
Many obstacles.
More hateful and cruel;
Someone who did fight a duel;
Never went to school.
Son of Lincoln died;
Sadness did become full of;
Son will always love.
When we do differ,
From God in what we believe,
ruble will receive.
Stranger to sickness,
Became and not understood,
Plight of each person.
Enter the center,
Results much better will be,
In current present.
Have to be aware;
When you will control people,
They do resent it.
Found a fear of death;
Must live life every minute,
From first to the last.
Jim Horn
You should start to think,,
What Horn haiku is about,
Promising outlook.
Her world has sunk around her, shes clawed her way from hell. The life that lived within her died. Now shes just a shell.
The spark of hope has been denied, her aura is now black. From what i see, but dont ask me. Shes never coming back.
The shelter that has covered her , is ruble on the ground. Amongst this sad catastrophe the answers wont be found.
The battleground eats her up. Her life will not be spared. The unjust ruling bittersweet has finally been declared.
As fate stirs up the last remains, a tear rolls from her eye. Karma isnt playing nice if she has to rectify.
Charlotte 2019
©lunaticsrave
He’s the best friend of democracy’s worst enemy ...
spinning white lies, treasonous yarn
Red coat ruby lipstick speak;
seditious bellow larceny,
crafty cerulean sound bytes of ruble treachery
Bennie Arn,
firebrand fox with the silver coin tongue
Got those oval eyes fixating
on the golden eggs in the eagle nest treasury,
Those baby blues
are crimson code flashing a czar fee:
Robbing Hood disdain is stained red Lenin Commie
Bennie Arn
keep plenty Ruskie company,
pilfering pals
hiding in the cyber weeds
Ballot box security
has a serious ivory inside bleed
Bennie Arn is selling classified secrets
on a pay-to-never know need
Giving those rotten cluck citizens
digital kernels of
decayed honesty chickenfeed
He’s the best friend of Lady Liberty’s worst enemy ...
weaving red meat lies, traitorous yarn
Sorry to say,
the Trojan Horse hay is in the barn
White noise seduced by wavy Iscariot charm —
Freedom woes got Union blue sold
when iron-copper chains
of thought tyranny prickly arose
Raise the white flag,
blow the indigo tone scare alarm
Pay scarlet turncoat tribute to Bennie Arn
They argued about the ruble, the kyat, the gold cordoba too
More conversation about lira, Swiss franc, and Moldova Leu.
Discussion soon turned to the rupee, new peso and Brazilian real,
Money talk ceased as they lined up for their evening meal.
…as she partakes in real time drama
her legs shot to pieces by foreign pursuit
Kin and friends have chipped in for wooden
crutches much easier to avoid land mines
in any case and thus she seems content
A satellite dish towering over the ruble
projects a shiny world of alien domination
doubles up as a parasol in the scorching sun
The screen is vivid and livid with many a
persona non-grata and the stigma of Kain’s
recurring news adorning foreheads of gory glory
She cannot forget and must remember to
pass on the baton and story to her descendants
and she is lucky to have born two children
despite the sucked-up fact that she feels
little below the floor of pelvic give and take
By law of statistics comprehending her dire
situation Para is quite normal because walking legs
come as a premium and so she forgives and
hopes that her son will not join the militia and
her daughter can bear the cross in dignity…
As my life is under construction every experience is like a brick that I the architect of my ability to respond to my ability (Responsibility), can choose to either add to the foundation laid out by the Father of all creation or toss it away in the ruble moving forward. I’m at my best when I take time out for me and get plenty of rest yes going the extra mile in everything I pursue how do I know what I say is true? You may ask it’s not hard or easy to stretch. For many years it was thought that I must beg, perform and conform to the ways other or another mother, father, friend, sister or brother wanted in order to be liked or loved. Without it the big question became am I doing, saying, being enough? Of coarse you are wait! No you’re not because I was then I would have did said and behaved in a way the measured up to the STANDARD. WHO’S STANDARDS? Because if it is not mine then I not only betray me, my self you and I. I betray all the potential of whom and what I could be in 5,10 15 20 years time going up and down the line.
Government policies that toilet stink
Presidentially approved
by a potty-mouth politrician rat-fink
Give the progressive town halls
more executive bathroom stalls
Read the foul language scrawls
on the Oval Office latrine
dollar-bill green painted walls
Flush the rank noise
with a few
smelly issue tissue tweet bawls
That dung aroma gon make your nose blink,
bowel vapors
will have your thoughts vomiting in the sink
Get the voting public
standing at nausea attention
Prep the ballot masses of breathy dissension
with sound bytes
of bitter chocolate bung mint,
duly veto sent
Tell ‘em it’s their sworn patriotic duty
to greedily eat the excrement
Taste the butt-hole flavor
of nasty worded inhalation torment
Truth got swallowed whole ... intestinal sold
Filthy lucre lips
do love the ruble con savor
Condition the brownie-nose party bound chumps
to double dip the cow chips
into the raw sewage salsa with the brown lumps
Be stricken by the loose tongue,
back-end diet
of diarrhea verbose crying
A cheeky butt buffet ...
odious motives with odoriferous intent
Buy the all-you-can-eat lying,
go feast on the swirling fear excrement
Ganksta fools
coming at you incorrect
like thugs
Political dull tools:
Criminal IQ fakers
showing total disrespect —
Tick-tock bugs
Clock benders of societal rules,
indecent lawmakers
Cut the bogus tax check ...
Pinocchio ears on tapped phones,
sporting a swag orange rug
Bandito style old school,
Ruble.con hustle takers
pad the pimped pockets that Soviet forget
Leave no meat on the T-note bones,
give the pub a lick swindle hug
Sucker slurp the sugar cube rube voting ponies
Game the parlay bettors pool:
Earthworms vs the Dirt Rakers
House tissue money on a porcelain toilet
Rigged royal flush won’t payout right for any wrongs ...
So spit spin a Russian caliber propaganda slug
in two revolving roulette chambers of covetous harmony
Fifty cents to a thug dollar,
fifty-fifty you gon give
a doggy groan something’s wrong holla
Muzzle the lips wearing a Moscow collar
Let the enticed Oz eyes speak
in emerald envy locked jaw harmony
Silence! Colonizers of low pedigree
American fawning pawn
wearing a king crown
How far down will you bow
to the Kremlin ground?
Peppermint kisses of appeasement
suit your licorice lips well
Shameless nude tongue abasement ...
snuggle close
to the Siberian imperial Impale
cloaked veil
Democracy pierced to the heart,
sold as a whore
for a few rubles more
Czar tissue formed on the orifice of freedom violation
Lady Liberty given over to suffer
vile degradation
by a leader butt bent and subservient
National security compromised —
prostituted for a marquee name display
Such servile, covetous billing ...
what price will Democracy pay
for the Gulag trick lay?
Adopted Cossack son,
holding the cipher keys to the kingdom,
stay bastardly submissive loyal
to your KGB domineering spy master
Getting a perverse thrill
when you hear the citizen cries
from the repeated dictatorial violations
Constitution issue gets no pardon —
Ruble khan decree:
execute the Little Caesar executive decision
Once the new czar tissue hardens,
how fast will the tyranny disease spread
from the lip dysentery infection transmission?
American Daughters of the Civil War Revolution
are so madly in love with their Bluish-Gray metal sons
Incestuous desires borne of slave tax oppression
Give to Caesar whatever tribute he crown heavy lay on you,
feed three-fifth portions to the hungry publican lions
Let the Den Mother Lying famine devour your children too
Cannibalize every ink spot known self-evident truth,
marginalize any constitutional chains inhibiting your ravenous lust
Another seething pot of baby bones is the Baal proof
Give to Pharaoh whatever gut pyramid schemes he Isis dream,
feed you quarterly lies from the war widow collection plate
The Wall Street church in tea need of another gun barrel beam
Amerikan Sons of the Ruble Con Bolshevik Revolution,
so gluttonly love their daughters’ leather fetish for the holster
Homicidal desires borne of suicidal plantation depression
What are you doing?
What are you there for?
some humans are buried
in the rubles of life
other live in wet swamps
go out of your comfort
take spades and rakes
bring caterpillars and hoes
to unearth those trapped
Bring them out in society
to enjoy freedom and love
and feel as humans.
The Angel
Heart of Peace
In the hills and glens of the Bosnian homelands
Roamed the Serbian chetniks, with swords of the devil
In the name of nationalism
Raping and killing, burning and pillaging
Their aggressions they called it defending
Carkic the rapist of all of humanity
Drank himself to a stupor
To hide his soul from his very own gods
As he burned the villages, children and all
How can such evil stand so tall?
From the ruble of hate, and Serbian addictions
There rises an angel from the concentration camps
Malice none, for her heart is filled with compassion
She listens to the victims, her kindness is her fashion
Esmuda Mujagic, content to build bridges to rainbows true
She is an angel of inspirations
Asking only for warmth for the victims of torture
No reprise is sought, only admissions of truth
So through forgiveness, life can mend and flourish
Instead arrested and harassed
The soldiers of Serbia, still carrying on
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